Bleached Metal 3: Ascension
by Alex McM
Summary: Having bested Stan, Soul Reaper became the Gods of Metal only to announce their retirement. Whilst the band mates go their separate ways chaos reigns among the metal community and with no-one to lead them the battle for supremacy begins. Meanwhile an old foe lurks in the shadows seeking vengeance. Its time for Soul Reaper to rise again and save the world through the power of rock!
1. Ordinary Life Sucks!

**Track 1: Ordinary Life Sucks!**

In the dead of night a lone silhouette drifted aimlessly through the back alleys towards the large double doors, long since sealed away like the tomb of an ancient king. He pressed his hand against the cold steel and pushed. Despite being closed, the door had not been locked it seemed and so the portal opened wide for the young man to enter.

He stepped into the darkness beyond and smiled, struck by memories of a glorious past.

This was where it all began.

An underground club nestled in the heart of Karakura, the haven for heavy metal back in the day. It was where a legend was born, where Gods took their first steps towards the heavens. It was the place where the magic happened.

But those days were long gone.

Two years since the horrors of Hades and the miraculous defeat of Stan, the greatest evil the world had ever known, the world had changed. Just as metal was ascending into the world at large, to spread its wondrous infectious poison throughout the masses...Just as metal reached the precipice of untold glory and it's long over-due recognition...

Everything changed...

With the black-clad legions ready for war, they turned to their new Gods and awaited leadership in the battle to come, but the newly crowned Gods of Metal had gone into hiding and vanished from the public eye. With no-one to lead them the metal militia suffered and the glory diminished into a pale reflection of its former self. Protests and governmental interference brought metal back down into the underground and damaged the industry seemingly beyond repair.

The club where the journey all began was forced to close down.

Ichigo brushed a hand over the bar counter, tracing a long trail through the dust-covered bench. The walls once lined with the finest drinks was now empty, the hot waitresses (and Ichigo's first ever groupies) were now employed elsewhere and the halls once resounding with musical mayhem had now become uncomfortably quiet.

The stage loomed ahead of him, the familiar altar where he had once sworn to die for metal was now simply rotting away. It brought a sad smile to his face and forced the young man to turn away. As he swept his gaze across the ghostly halls he spotted the infamous barrier fence, his old foe. Even after so long, the blood he shed against it remained ever-present as the club owners had refused to clean it.

With a sigh, Ichigo sank into his familiar old corner booth and laid his head upon the table, closing his eyes and basking in fond memories of a time that felt so very long ago.

* * *

Renji let out a mighty battle cry as he brought his great sword crashing down upon the demon's bone-white skull. It howled in rage and fear as its body disintegrated into ashes to be dispersed by the chilled winds. He heaved and sighed whilst returning the weapon to its scabbard and promptly returned to his quarters. After washing the blood from his hands he staggered into his chamber and sat down at the fading old desk weighed down with endless piles of papers.

He stared at the piles distastefully and groaned.

Day in, day out, every single day...The endless tedium of hollow hunting and paper-work until he fell asleep, only to wake up and repeat the cycle. Renji hated his job. He hated it more than anything, desperately wishing for a holiday. But even so, what was the point? It's not like he had anything to do. Everyone had moved on from Soul Reaper. There was no more use for vacation days, other than to store them up until the day in which hopefully the others would come to their senses.

But that was not very likely...

In the years since Soul Reaper had split up everyone had gone their separate ways, pursuing their own goals and working towards new dreams. All the while Renji simply toiled away as usual like a loyal shinigami should. He had no other dreams, no other goals in life. Everything he ever wanted was found in the band. After coming so close to finding that which he had been searching decades for, to have it so suddenly taken away Renji had realised how dull his life really was.

He accepted their decision though in the back of his mind he resented them for giving up so easily. How could they abandon the stage after all they had been through. Surely the others had felt something change inside them after defeating Stan.

They had a responsibility to fly the flag of metal and lead their fans into a new era and yet Soul Reaper simply backed down from their duty and split up, each member flying off into the distance like the fragments of some kind of ancient artifact in an anime.

But this was the reality Renji had been forced to face, albeit reluctantly.

But in the back of his mind, Renji always dreamed of the day when Soul Reaper would reunite and return to the stage...Alas, he dreamed, though dreams they remained...

Day in, day out...

* * *

"Hey ladies! Who wants to (Censored) my (Censored) with a (Censored) and (Censored) it with a (Especially censored)?" declared the boastful blue-haired bass player of Soul Reaper, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques. With bottles of drink in each hand, the arms of which were both wrapped around beautiful women, Renji reclined in a hot tub at the house of someone he didn't even know with more people he had never even met. But they loved him anyway!

After losing his gig with the band Grimmjow simply lived out the other half of the rock star life-style, going to clubs and parties and getting shit-faced with strangers every night. He woke up in a different house every morning, though always accompanied by the same hangover, wrapped in the sheets with someone else (Not always female, much to his shock. Hell sometimes they weren't even _human_!) His memories of anything between the Hades incident and the present were all muddled and warped, blurred behind the booze, but he was content that way...

He didn't want to remember the crushing loneliness felt after everyone went away. He didn't want to be reminded that all the women he slept with were simply drunk off their asses and couldn't care less whether he was a rock star or not, or even if it was true that he was a God of Metal. He didn't want to relive the moment he let all the fans down and abandoned them.

Grimmjow didn't want to remember anything, except the times he spent with the band on the road. Those were the good times. He just wanted everything to return back to normal, but before that, he really needed to pee.

* * *

Meanwhile at the Budokan...

"I love you, I love you, I love you forever!" she sang, waving with animated fervour at the gigantic crowd which waved back with glow-sticks clenched tightly in their sweaty hands.

"Whoo!"

"Yeah!"

"We love you Rukia-chan!"

"Ha ha ha ha, thank you everyone, you're all so sweet!" Rukia danced about on-stage amidst a sea of flashing lights and roaring speakers. It wasn't the same as the packed little clubs and bars she used to play for but she didn't mind this either. Sure it was far from her old world, but she didn't care at all. This was fun, this was rewarding in her eyes.

It was safe...

Rukia had decided for herself to quit Soul Reaper after the events that transpired in Hades. The horrors had been too much for her to bear and fearing not only for her own safety, but for those of her closest friends, her band mates, she had chosen to stray from the path she had travelled so far. Despite giving up metal, Rukia hadn't given up on music altogether and after talks with therapists it was deemed suitable for Rukia to rehabilitate herself through the medium with which she had so fervently expressed herself.

It took only a few months for her to become recognised and only a couple of months more before she had become an idol. She knew Ichigo had never supported the venture and that telling him she had gone off to become a pop idol would only lead to an argument and so she had hidden the truth from him and simply told her husband that she was going on a business trip.

That was over a year ago.

Ichigo would have found out by now, but Rukia was too afraid to go back, afraid that he wouldn't even want to look at her after forsaking metal for the idol life. And so Rukia remained on the road, touring alone, performing at festivals and arenas across Japan.

Her self-prescribed therapy had worked, leaving only the hesitation at returning to her old world. She knew it was what Ichigo would have preferred, but she had burned that bridge when she chose to become an idol. As much as it would have pained the others to hear it, she preferred this to the troubling, painful path of metal.

She was happy with her life now, she just wished for Ichigo to be by her side...

"Aaarrgh!"

A scream billowed out from the crowd, different from the rest in that it was not of joy but of agony. Suddenly more cries rang out amidst the crowd and the music screeched to a halt. Rukia froze mid-step and stared out at the slowly spreading black mass near the back of the crowd.

_What the Hell?_

"Traitor!"

"Witch!"

"How dare you leave us for this crap!"

"You worthless fucking sell-out!"

More irate roars rang out through the otherwise deathly silence around them. The mob of furious metalheads waded through the crowd which parted like the red sea until they reached the front row. There were too many to simply ask security to escort them out, a proverbial army of sorts.

"W-What are you doing here?! Leave me alone!" Rukia cried, her voice cracking for all to hear.

"Yeah!" her fans backed her up, "Leave Rukia-chan alone!"

The metalheads spat back at the rest of the crowd and turned once again to their former God. "You betrayed us...And for for this?! You were a fucking God to us and you threw it all away for such childish bullshit? Why?!"

Rukia shifted unnerved glances between her old fans and her new fans. Her knees were quivering and the microphone she had been holding slipped out of her clammy hands to smash against the floor leaving a resounding hiss of feedback which sent the audience reeling.

Rukia fell to her knees and sobbed as all Hell broke loose in the crowd. Her rage-filled former fans were eager to rush up on stage and confront their former leader but the rest of the crowd ran to her aid and brought upon themselves an all-out brawl.

"Why?" Rukia cried, "I wanted to escape from the violence...Why are you doing this? Why must misfortune and bloodshed follow me everywhere I go?"

No-one answered.

* * *

In a sleazy hotel bar somewhere in Europe a man sat near the tiny TV mounted on the wall, straining to hear against the noise around him. He stroked his thin goatee and stared hard at the faces appearing on-screen.

A reporter stood outside the Budokan where a convoy of emergency vehicles parked around him forming a vehicular Berlin wall (Just ignore the fact that it's in Japan and not Berlin ok!) The great arena was in flames and under siege by riot police. The chorus of screams challenged the reporter's words which he had no choice but to yell into the camera.

#_Yes, it seems the rioters sneaked through after attacking the staff at the ticket gate. They proceeded on to assault the crowd and even tried to abduct the rising new idol star, Rukia Kuchiki. Thankfully she was escorted to safety before their plan could succeed, but currently riot police are on the scene trying to control the chaos within. As you can see there are fires raging across the arena but the medics and fire-fighters have to wait until the fighting inside has calmed down enough to enter. The police have been battling for some time now and it seems the brawl is still very much under way._#

"Hmm." The man glared at the photo of the all too familiar face which flashed up on the screen. "So, they gain power and this is what they do with it? Pathetic!"

Rising from his seat the man approached the bar, various empty glasses in hand and addressed the barman, "Excuse me, put it all on my tab."

"Sure, what's your name?"

After a dramatic pause the man leaned forward and grinned a devilish grin, "Oh, you can call me Stan."

* * *

That's right, Bleached Metal is backl There will be sex drugs and rock and roll and plenty more awkward moments with Ichigo. It's gonna be a crazy ride so strap your self in! Oh and how about a review while you're at it?


	2. The Answers We Fear

**Track 2: Answers We Fear**

Rukia sat alone in a hotel room several blocks over from the Budokan where the vicious battle was still raging. Out the window she could see the pillars of flame devouring the famous arena. Intermittent flashes of light from the emergency vehicles rolled across the battlefield stirring memories of Soul Reaper's live shows.

The lights, the fires, the screaming.

It was all the same, yet entirely different. There was no enjoyment out there. The only release out on that field of war was through bloodshed. The screams were not of excitement and fervour but of fear and pain.

The nightmares she had fought to escape from had only managed to hunt her down once again.

Pursued by her haunted past Rukia could never find peace.

With a grave expression she observed the madness from afar, only to be disturbed by the knock at the door.

"Hey, Rukia, can I come in?"

"Sure." she muttered, not shifting her gaze for even a moment. She knew who it was from their voice alone, needing not to turn and face them as they strolled into the room. She knew she would be standing to attention as her job demanded, but the thought of it only made Rukia feel anxious and so she ordered the visitor, "Stand down."

"Right. Ha ha...Thanks."

Tatsuki, Rukia's official bodyguard, relaxed into a casual stance though there was an imperceptible sense of alarm about her that continued to put Rukia off.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Well, I don't mean to pry but...Shouldn't you tell Ichigo about this? He is your husband after all."

Rukia bowed her head and sighed, "So says the papers...It doesn't feel that way."

"What do you mean? What about that crazy wedding you put on? Was that just for show?"

"Technically speaking it was all a publicity stunt to get us more record sales. Even though we tried to ignore that fact it just never felt right. We rushed into it without thinking."

Tatsuki was taken aback, her eyes narrowing, "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts about it?" Rukia's lack of an answer left the answer up to the imagination, only making the bodyguard more furious, "That's ridiculous! You love him don't you? He obviously loves you! What's the issue?"

"You don't understand Tatsuki...You never would."

"What's that supposed to mean?! Are you saying I'm-?"

"You don't understand!" Rukia snapped, cutting off her friend without letting her say her piece. For the first time since Tatsuki had entered Rukia turned to look at her, her eyes clouded with doubt, "You can't because...I...I don't even understand it myself..."

The guard fell silent and took a tentative step forward, desiring to pursue the matter further but unable to find the words she needed. She simply approached her charge and studied her subtly changing expression.

"Tatsuki. What I say here cannot be repeated. Is that clear?"

"O-Of course!"

With a deep breath Rukia leaned back against the bed and stared hard at her reflection in the window. "I love Ichigo...But there are barriers between us that we had never considered when we got married. We were too swept up in the moment to think about what we were getting into. Besides...I robbed him and the others of their dream...I could never face them again after what I've done."

"But...The band wasn't that important to them was it? Surely friends come first?"

"In a normal band, yes, that's true. But we had become something far beyond the norm. What happened in Hades changed us all. We had a destiny carved out for us and I shied away because I was too afraid of losing what I had found with the band. I robbed them of their chance to soar ever higher and worse still I let down the fans that had gone on the journey with us..."

"Oh come on! It's your life you can do whatever you want!"

"I know, but I can't help but feel that my selfishness squandered the future laid out for us all. Rather than climb higher I simply walked back to the starting line to go from the beginning again."

"But...You're happy out there. I see you out there with that great big smile on your face when they cry your name. I see you throw your heart and soul into your shows. It doesn't matter whether you're an idol or a rocker! You have passion and that's what counts!"

"I may be happy with what I'm doing but what about Ichigo? Or Renji? Or Grimmjow? Or Nnoitra?"

Tatsuki placed a finger to her chin, "Nnoitra is still on tour isn't he? I'm sure he's happy with his old band anyway. He was only a fill-in from the beginning right?"

"What of the others then?" Rukia persisted.

"Hmm...I haven't heard from them since I became your personal guard. But I'm sure they're doing fine."

"How can you be so sure?"

Tatsuki tore at her hair in frustration, "Ugh! Fine! How about this? You can ask them yourself whether they are happy or not! We'll organise a show back home in Karakura. You can drop in and say hello and ask Ichigo how he feels! Is that alright with you?"

"I...I guess so..." said Rukia as she took one last glance at the burning corpse of the Budokan.

* * *

Renji ran through the corridors of the sixth squad barracks and finally rounded the corner into the courtyard. He flitted across the open ground and made his way to his captain's manor at the old Kuchiki house. The sequestered manor stood tall in its lonely little corner, still managing to appear imposing despite having nothing around it to govern over.

The door was already open, the captain awaiting his summons.

"Captain Kuchiki, I'm here as you asked."

Byakuya Kuchiki sat in the centre of the empty room holding a colourful piece of paper. He looked towards it with distaste and hurled it towards Renji as if it were a knife.

Managing to catch it just in time Renji waved the piece of paper around like a prize until several things happened. For a start he realised he was acting like a fool in the presence of his captain. Then he realised he had gotten a paper-cut from the colourful little missile and that it was stinging like a bitch. Finally he noticed the writing on the paper.

He switched the sheet to his other hand while sucking at the blood dribbling from his right hand. "What is it?"

"A summons from _her_."

"You mean Rukia?"

The menacing silence was answer enough.

Renji glanced down at the paper and studied the message written in a bright girly hand, "It's an invitation?"

"Indeed," Byakuya snarled, "She is coming to Karakura for her frivolous little idol show. Such promiscuity and baseless defacement of the proud Kuchiki clan is utterly disgraceful and I shall not support it. I want you to go in my stead and attend her performance."

"W-What's an idol?"

"You will see."

"Wait!" Renji shook his head, "if you don't like it then why do you want me to go as your representative?"

"To keep her safe." replied the captain with a straight face as usual. "Outside forces have been causing trouble at her live shows. Have you heard of the latest incident in the World of the Living? A rebel force attacked the Budokan in an attempt to bring her down. They will surely strike again and as much as I detest her actions I cannot allow her to come to harm."

"Uh...Okay. Sure, I'll check it out and keep Rukia out of trouble."

Without any further discussion Byakuya sent Renji off on his mission to the World of the Living to the familiar town of Karakura where their legendary adventures began.

An omen?

Renji truly hoped so...

* * *

Ichigo sat before the TV having just finished dinner with his family. His stomach was bloated leaving him to recline semi-comatose on the couch. The only sounds to escape him came in the form of painful farts, throat scraping burps and awkward moaning and groaning that could easily be misconstrued, the perfect soundtrack to a man stroking his stomach like an expecting mother six months gone.

He wasn't sure what he was watching, uncertain even of the distinction between the commercials and the actual show itself. It was all loud, irritating and colourful.

But then something caught his eye. A picture on the screen he hadn't seen in some time, regardless of how much he longed for it. A familiar face he desired more than any other...

Rukia.

"What the...What is she doing on TV?"

And then he saw it. An advertisement he had never seen coming, one that burned his eyes but refused to allow him to look away. A concert he swore on his pride as a man that he would never go and see and yet was already calling to book his seat. A night he would never want to experience ye this heart was skipping beats in anticipation for it.

Ichigo felt embarrassed to say it, but for closure and to allay his concerns he had to say it out loud and come to terms with what he had done. Almost in disbelief, Ichigo stared at the TV and uttered the words he had never expected to come out of his mouth...

"I'm going to an idol concert..."

* * *

An unexpected reunion? A lingering threat? Love trouble? Can it get any worse? You're damn right it can! The fun's only just starting! I hope you're enjoying the story so far, please remember to review!


	3. Reunion

**Track 3: Reunion**

Ichigo lined up outside the Karakura arena (Trust me it was always there, I'm not just randomly throwing it in there for the sake of the story. Oh, well fuck you then! Don't believe me! Why don't you people trust me?!)

…

_Anyway_, Ichigo was lined up outside the Karakura arena. Well he was lined up to go inside, but considering the length of the line he was actually five blocks away. Staring past the heads of Rukia-Chan's many obsessive fans Ichigo stared up at the imposing structure that he somehow had never noticed in his quiet little town for so many years. I mean surely if there was a massive stadium you would notice it right?

But Ichigo was more concerned about other matters to dwell too much on something as silly as how long the stadium had been towering over the town. Most importantly, it was his chance to meet up with Rukia after their year apart.

He didn't understand. Why had she left him? Wasn't she happy? They had their little arguments sure, but when it all came down to it didn't she love him the way he loved her? Or was that just an illusion on his part? An adrenaline surged fantasy to spur him ever onwards to the path of success.

Ichigo cursed and slapped himself in the face, earning confused and patronising stares from those lined up around him. He ignored them and turned to the shop window to his side. A colourful poster for Rukia-Chan's concert took up the majority of the space, obscuring whatever it was the shop sold inside. Ichigo stared hard into the eyes of the girl he so dearly loved and let out a sigh.

"You feeling the sting of love huh?" a fan chattered behind him, patting his shoulder, "I know that feeling buddy, but you know she's married right?"

Ichigo looked at him calmly and smiled. The he punched him in the face and stormed off ahead of the line towards the front gates where terrified and exhausted admissions staff were working over-time to get everyone inside in an orderly fashion. It was then that he noticed the commotion at the gate.

* * *

Renji had no idea what he was getting himself into. Byakuya had simply thrust this dangerous mission upon him without giving any more details than to protect Rukia, a mission he gladly accepted, hoping that by protecting her he could at least climb a rung higher than Grimmjow in the fight for Rukia's affection. That's right, years later and he was still hung up on losing out to Ichigo in the race to take her hand and even more hung up over Grimmjow's...Actions...Yes let's leave it at that.

He stared at all the other people around him, all chanting her name as if she were some kind of God (Though that was technically true.) but as far as Renji knew Rukia had left the band to escape from all of that. If she was back in business why did she never call?

_Unless...She's touring with another band behind my back?!_

Renji suddenly started bawling while shuffling hopelessly through the line, but the tears stopped the instant he reached the gate and was handed a glow-stick, just like a child's tantrum disrupted by the allure of a balloon from John Wayne Gacy.

"Glow sticks?" he whispered while wiping away the tears with his sleeve. "That's pretty cool I guess..."

"WHAT?! They've got fuckin' glow sticks?! That's awesome! Gimme, gimme, gimme!" came an irresponsibly loud voice from behind.

Renji couldn't be bothered turning around to look at the annoying fool...At least not until said fool ran into him and knocked him to the ground.

"Hey watch where you're going, dick!" he growled.

"You're a dick!"

…

Renji blinked. "Say what?"

"I said you're a dick! You shouldn't have been standing around like a fucking dope-"

"Say that again!" he pressed, grabbing the clumsy bastard by the shoulders and shaking him like you would a baby to get it to sleep.

"Uh...Which part?"

Renji had to be sure. "You're a dick!"

"No you're a dick!"

That cinched it then. Renji suddenly grinned like the creepy man in the van outside the local primary school and offered the boy some candy- I mean offered a hand to help the other man up. The feel of leathery, callused fingers only served to reassure his assumptions.

"Grimmjow?"

"Renji?"

For a moment there was silence. Not everywhere, the crowd was very loud, especially with the little reunion taking blocking the entryway. But Grimmjow and Renji were silent at least, staring at each other like the soldier returning home to his wife after years at war (Don't worry this ain't a yaoi fic.)

"Grimmjow, what the hell are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" the blue haired fool snapped back accusingly.

"Well, I'm seeing Rukia." Renji explained. "Same for you I suppose?"

"Rukia is here too?" Grimmjow asked, genuinely surprised.

Renji pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, "Of course she is! This is Rukia's concert! What did you think you bought tickets for?"

"Fucked if I know, I came for the open bar!"

Renji just turned around and walked away.

"Renji? Hey, wait up! Renji!"

* * *

Ichigo raced to the ticket gate to catch up with the two familiar faces, but as soon as he grew near they just up and left to go inside the arena. With a curse Ichigo made for the gate in pursuit but was stopped by the staff that stood out to block his way forward.

"Excuse me sir, you need a ticket to enter."

Ichigo fished around in his pockets and flashed his ticket, waving it around with disinterest, "Here it is. Now let me through."

The girl who was much smaller than Ichigo cowered under his nasty scowl which was a little bit nastier than usual. She clasped her hands in front of her chest and tried to sink into herself while staring up at the towering figure with fiery coloured hair.

"Uh...B-But you need to line up...Like everybody else..."

That brought a smile to Ichigo's face, but honestly his smile was worse than his scowl and only made the girl shy away even further. Ichigo placed a hand on her shoulder and gazed into her terrified lambs eyes. "I'm not like everybody else."

"Wha...?"

Ichigo leaned in real close, close enough that their noses were almost touching. The girl's cheeks visibly reddened, then drained of all traces of colour and then reddened again. She tried to speak but could only utter fragments of words and pitiful puppy sounds. Ichigo took a deep breath and closed his eyes, prompting the girl to back away a little, but it wasn't enough.

"Move it!" Ichigo roared, the immense sound making the earth tremble and most importantly hurling the girl twenty metres away to smack into a wall and drop head first into a bin leaving her legs flailing in the air and her skirt to flop down shamelessly to reveal pink Hello Kitty panties. The vague distraction held everyone's attention long enough for Ichigo to slip inside the arena and mix into the unwary crowd.

* * *

Rukia was powdering her face backstage in her dressing room when she heard a sudden roar from outside. Her hand froze in mid-air, suspended right before her eyes which were slowly sliding to the direction in which the sound came from.

Tatsuki, who was sitting in a simple wooden chair near the door glanced up from the book she was reading (Fight Club for those interested...) and frowned.

"What the fuck was that?"

Rukia didn't answer, but she knew who it was deep down in her heart. It was the roar that had left her ears ringing and her temples pounding after each and every show. It was the ferocious growl of the beast she had tamed and married, the ever scowling, ever awkward Ichigo Kurosaki.

"He's here..." Rukia mumbled, intended only for herself, but Tatsuki's ears twitched at that and a thin smile crossed her lips.

"I told you Ichigo would show up. I bet he's already drooling like an idiot just waiting to see you! Hell he's probably arguing with the crowd trying to convince them that he's your wife."

Rukia bowed her head and sighed, glancing away and staring down at her desk.

"Oh come on, don't tell me you're getting cold feet now? You're on in half an hour!"

When Rukia made no attempt to answer, her young bodyguard let out a deep sigh and begrudgingly crossed over to her. Tatsuki leaned on her shoulders and rested her head atop Rukia's hair, digging her chin into her skull arousing a tiny squeal from the nervous idol.

"Rukia, how long have we known each other?"

After a moment of though Rukia shrugged, "Not very long actually..."

Tatsuki lifted her head and frowned at herself in the mirror, "Oh shit, you're right. But the point is even though we haven't known each other for so long...Uh...Yeah, that's it! You trust me don't you?"

"You're not very good at improvising are you?" Rukia jabbed with a sad smile.

"Just answer the question."

"Of course I do. You wouldn't be my guard if I didn't."

Tatsuki puffed her chest out with pride, but with her humble B-cup it didn't have that much emphasis. "Exactly! If you trust me, then you'll step out on that stage with a big smile and give it your all. You're gonna show Ichigo that this is what you want to do and he will be happy for you. Besides, you don't want to rip off all your fans do you? Can't you hear them out there, screaming your name? Putting you issues with Ichigo aside, just know that your fans always will love you. Even your old fans from Soul Reaper will stand by you no matter what you do!"

Rukia rolled her eyes, "Were you asleep last time? You remember what happened at the Budokan!"

"They weren't your real fans."

The two of them fell silent, staring emptily at themselves in the dressing room mirror.

"Tatsuki?"

"Yeah?"

Rukia hesitated, the words stuck on the tip of her tongue, refusing to come out. When at last she could bring herself to ask, her voice rattled and croaked like an old shed door.

"Why are you so sure that Ichigo will support me in all this?"

She just laughed.

"Why? It's simple! He's one of your true fans and so am I!"

For the first time in a while Rukia smiled.

* * *

"So what are we supposed to do here?" Grimmjow asked, genuinely stumped.

"To see Rukia."

"Oh. So why is she here then at this 'idol concert' thing?" Grimmjow seemed to struggle with the word 'idol' as if it were new to vocabulary. Chances are it probably was. Even so, Renji resisted the urge to slap him and kicked his shin instead. Grimmjow dropped to his knees and cursed, "Ow, what was that for?"

"It's to wake you up!" Renji snapped, "I mean you paid almost 20,000 yen for tickets just to go to the bar here! Are you seriously that stupid?"

Grimmjow puffed up and snorted, "I am not stupid! It's a really clever plan you see?"

"How?" Renji folded his arms and mentally prepared himself for disappointment.

"Well, you see if you pay the cover charge, then you can drink as much as you want once you get through the gate! That way I can drink even more than 20 grand worth of free booze!"

He was right to be disappointed. Renji's anger flared. "That only works at carnivals you retard! You still have to pay for drinks at a show!"

"What? Since when?"

"Since forever! You were in the music business, you should know this already!"

"Well it's not my fault I've been out of a job for the past 2 years! No wonder I'm a little rusty when it comes to these things!"

"Hey! Don't snap at me as if I broke us up!" Renji replied irately, "It was Rukia-"

The lights went down.

The show was about to begin.

"Rukia..."


	4. Idol Time

**Track 4: Idol Time**

Darkness swept over the crowd, a hushed silence bringing all the fans to a standstill. Perspiring in the cramped heat of the arena, bustling for a good vantage point, the vapour of excitement wafting up to the distant ceiling. The gasp of thousands of people billowing out toward the stage at the far end, a mighty structure of wood and steel. Speakers the size of cars and screens bigger than the front wall of most houses. An elaborate set-up, the precipice of the show.

The crowd hung on bated breath, eyes glued to the stage even as their eyes struggled to adjust to the abyssal darkness.

Ichigo stood lost in the middle of the crowd staring out at the ocean of people, fresh memories flooding back, the mixture of nostalgia and anticipation working him into a frenzy, fingers clasping frantically at the air.

Somewhere near the side Grimmjow and Renji stopped bickering for the first time in the hour since they had met, both drawn to the allure of the stage, curiosity piqued by the unknown world they had entered.

It was then that the silhouette first appeared.

A ghostly presence gliding across the stage to the fore, still veiled in shadows. The figure raised their hands to the sky and like the salutes of loyal soldiers a vibrantly glowing sea of glow-sticks arose, the faint glow emanating from them bringing a haunting haze to the arena, like neon candle light.

A light rising synth note played out, reverberating throughout the huge concert space. The figure moved slightly, taking up a pose with their legs spread apart and their hands spread apart as if to embrace the darkness.

Then the lights exploded, burning the stage and blinding the crowd for the briefest of moments. When at last they could open their eyes, the goddess was in full view, an elegant frilled lace dress and corset, red ribbons shooting off behind her. With a beaming smile she stared out at the crowd who had since gone ballistic, screaming and crying out with unbridled joy.

She took in the sights and sounds all at once, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself, taking a deep breath before standing to attention, head bowed.

The rising notes reached their climax and a fast keyboard pattern rolled over it to lead into the first song. Moving like a woman possessed, the girl moved with the music, pouring her heart into the dance, moving faster than the wind, hands and feet a blur.

Ichigo was taken aback. The noise was certainly imposing, but still far from the sonic assault of his beloved metal. Still, he could feel the drums rattling within his bones the synths sending goose bumps along his arms.

He stood there at first, unsure what to do, unable to head-bang to the song, far too up-beat to roar along to and certainly not a song to mosh to. He watched on as the crowd moved in surging waves, jumping high into the air and pumping their fists or waving the glow-sticks. Their movements were minimal in comparison to the ferocious attack of Soul Reaper's fans, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves nonetheless.

He wasn't entirely happy with the song, silently complaining that the guitars weren't loud enough or fast enough or distorted enough. The song was too cheery. The lyrics were sorely lacking in dismemberment and the love detailed was pure not forced. It made little sense, but this was Rukia...

This was what she wanted to do...

With a shrug of his shoulders and roll of the eyes Ichigo became one with the mass entity of the crowd, jumping around like an African tribesman while flinging his arms out like a fool. At some point he began head banging, incorporating occasional windmills at parts of the song, inciting appreciative cheers from nearby fans.

Laughing like an idiot he stepped up his deranged hybrid dancing to earn the favour for the fans and try and appreciate Rukia's strange new world.

Meanwhile Grimmjow and Renji had managed through screaming matches to organise a feeble yet functional mosh pit, one which they undoubtedly dominated. Even though it was fun, the fans were preoccupied with eyeing the prancing princess on-stage rather than keep an eye out for the incoming human traffic. As such casualties abound in the infantile pit leaving Renji and Grimmjow to work overtimes, hauling out the fallen and managing the natural born chaos they had created.

From the stage Rukia could see the pit forming, questions forming on the tip of her tongue, threatening to derail from her lyrics.

Through sheer force of will she managed to remain singing unperturbed despite the otherwise unusual occurrence. However, it brought a smile to her face, one more genuine than her stage persona.

There were only a handful of people who could create a hundred strong pit at an idol concert without disrupting the show. And those people all formed what was once the greatest metal band on Earth...Soul Reaper.

Abarai Renji, the red-headed rhythm guitarist who wore his heart on his sleeve and with a mind as complex as the tattoos that served as his eyebrows.

Grimmjow Jeagerjaques, bass player and Renji's natural enemy. A child-like mind with the mouth of an Irish sailor. A character as confusing as his surname (I mean seriously what the hell is that?)

Ichigo Kurosaki, the frontman, her husband, the ever-scowling, ever awkward yet utterly delightful fool. The reason for her induction into the annals of metal history and the very same reason she was resigned to escape.

Of course there was also Nnoitra (On tour with his old band), but knowing him a mosh pit of his creation would arouse police suspicion and result in evacuation and a swarm of paramedics. Suffice to say he was not the most subtle creature in the world.

Still, she loved them all dearly (One of them a little bit more than the others of course...) and their presence managed to lift her to a height she had never reached in the years since their disbandment two years ago.

As the lights dimmed and the playback faded out, so too did the movement of the crowd. All of a sudden the roaring and cheering died out until only sympathetic cries and affectionate words were hurled towards her.

_What the...What are they doing?_

"Aw, don't cry Rukia-Chan!"

"We love you Rukia-Chan!"

"You're the greatest Rukia-Chan!"

Confused by their words Rukia stared out at their sad faces and wondered why her vision was clouding. A wet sensation upon her cheeks roused her suspicions and as she wiped her eyes her gloved hands came away tear-stained.

_What?! Why am I crying? Is it...No it can't be! Don't tell me it's..._

She didn't want to accept it, but there was no denying the source of her tears.

_It's them isn't it?_

"Thank you...Everyone..."

A thunderous round of applause erupted from the crowd, all in response to her soft-spoken gratitude. Their voices soared to the rafters and shook the entire building, words of praise and affection overflowing.

It was a truly touching moment, only bringing more tears to her eyes. As she giggled anxiously, waving and smiling despite her weeping, she swept her gaze through the crowd, finally meeting the eyes of the one she had been dying to see.

Ichigo stood out like a sore thumb clad in black, bullet belt and spiked wristbands, hair the colour of flame. It could only be him, only exemplified by his body suddenly going rigid, voice dying away to a silent yawn.

With a determined nod Rukia stood tall and addressed her adoring fans, "Everyone, I'd like to make a special announcement! Tonight there is a very special person in the crowd. His name is Ichigo Kurosaki. Stand up and take a bow Ichigo! Come on, I can see you trying to hide!"

With a sweet burst of laughter from the idol princess, her wish was granted and Ichigo took an overly theatrical bow, a spotlight now trained upon him. More applause this time, though accompanied by jealous snorts and derisive grunts.

"Ichigo...I came here tonight especially for you. I...I need to tell you something." Rukia licked her lips and took a deep breath, "And that something is...I-"

An explosion.

Screams.

Flames.

The black flag of the metal militia, corpse-painted soldiers descending via ropes and chains dropped down from the hole blown through the ceiling.

Rukia froze up, fixedly staring at the intruders. This time they weren't just a group of unruly gate-crashers. This time they were armed! This was an attack!

Gunshots rang out through the great arena and thousands of bodies hit the floor, screaming in terror.

"Rukia Kuchiki! You have been warned!" one of the troops declared, a megaphone to his colourless lips, "You've witnessed the consequences of your betrayal at the Budokan. It was our hope that you would return to your senses before we would have to take extreme measures. Unfortunately..."

Rapid gunfire. A hail of bullets. Blood spurting into the air in unholy fountains from dying fans.

Rukia screamed, forgetting the microphone in her hands, the shrill cry shaking the building to its foundations and breaking the speakers. "Stop it! Stop it please!"

Like trapped animals her idol fans were executed, shot down from their floating assailants.

While Rukia stared at the madness above she failed to notice the dozen or so soldiers sneak out from backstage. Just as she felt their stares bearing down upon her and craned her neck, a searing jolt of electricity ran through her sending flashing white brightness through her head, knocking her out cold.

The soldier with a cattle prod laughed devilishly as two others bound her arms and legs. Four others hefted her up and carried her out, unnoticed over the melee.

"Rukia!" Tatsuki dragged herself up on the stage and raced after the abductors. Those that carried the unconscious idol hurried along while the remaining eight intruders formed a wall to block the guard's passage.

Tatsuki clenched her fists and charged, colliding with the centre of the human wall and sending her assailants tumbling over each other. Those at the side flanks stepped aside and quickly surged in to surround her, but Tatsuki anticipated their move, spinning on one leg whilst extending the other in a wide arc, sweeping the legs of those who came too close.

Using the momentum to push herself up she made a bolt for the rear of the stage where Rukia had been taken, but she was tackled from behind and slammed into the floor. Her forehead smashed against the ground with a resounding thud and for a moment a swirling mass of light obscured her vision.

Tatsuki resisted as they tried to pin her down, using her feet to push and pummel her opponents, all the while screaming Rukia's name at the top of her lungs.

The scream died in her throat as a boot dug into her stomach, crushing her mid-section and forcing a blood spattered cough. Tears stung her eyes as she feebly clawed away at the feet that crashed against her ribs. She tried to curse, to snarl, to intimidate them somehow, but no noise could escape her when one of the leads was wrapped about her throat.

Splotches of black filled her vision as dizziness overcame her, consciousness evaporating under the strain of her lungs and fervently beating heart.

She silently reached out to Rukia, but her fingers clasped at nothing but air...

She felt her fingers go numb, then her hands and feet. She was losing her senses, only able to see blurred colours and just barely able to hear the muffled screams and muted sounds of thunder.

As her eyes were just about to close she felt a sudden weightlessness. The pain of strangulation had dissipated and the maelstrom of kicks had come to a stop. She squinted through the haze and couldn't find the black clad warriors. She craned her neck and noticed a figure rushing off into the distance, barely distinguishable from the shadows in the firelight except for his flaming orange hair.

Everything turned black.

* * *

Ichigo vaulted over the hastily strewn debris in the halls backstage. He wasn't sure how long it had been since Rukia was taken, but certain that they couldn't have gotten far. He could hear their shouting and grumbling in the distance, around every corner. He pressed on the speed and rounded another corner, catching sight of the fleeing attackers.

Ichigo grit his teeth and ran full tilt after them, the physical effort forcing him to growl like a beast of the wilds as if to announce the hunt.

The soldiers slowed at the sound of the encroaching enemy and set Rukia aside while they fumbled around for their weapons. Drawing guns they took desperate aim, their untrained shots glancing off the walls and ceiling while Ichigo ran straight through the gauntlet, not slowing at all, even as a few bullets found their mark.

"Rukia!" He roared, the shock-wave of his voice momentarily incapacitating the attackers. As he neared them he swung his arms out and clotheslined the closest of them, quickly spinning on his heels to press both hands against the torso of the third. Pushing with all his might, Ichigo threw the man into the steel scaffolding against the wall with a sound of broken bone and steel.

The fourth fired point blank catching the furious front-man in the shoulder. Using the adrenaline burst to spur on his final effort Ichigo slammed his fist into the soldier's nose sending a spurting fountain of blood from the shattered piece of cartilage. The soldier dropped like a bag of rocks and didn't move since.

Exhausted and in agony, Ichigo slid up beside Rukia and held her for the first time in two years. Through ragged breaths he told her about what he had been up to, how his sisters were doing at school and how he had been getting better at guitar lately. He knew she wasn't listening but he continued the one-sided conversation for as long as his consciousness could hold out.

When he reached his limit, Ichigo rolled his head to the side, brushing his cheek against hers and fell asleep to the lullaby of sirens outside.


	5. We Meet Again

**Track 5: We Meet Again**

Ichigo stared up at the hospital looming over him, the towering figure casting great shadows across the barren street. He glanced down at the bandages concealed under his shirt and sighed.

"Hey, where's the hospital scene?" Renji asked from aside, startling the boy.

"Ah! Renji?! What are you doing here?"

"They got rid of the hospital scene this time because there were too many in the last story." explained Grimmjow, now appearing from Ichigo's other side and inciting another shrill scream.

"Grimmjow?! What the-"

"Well it's Ichigo's fault for getting hurt all the damn time. He should learn the meaning of restraint, the thick-headed bloody fool!"

"I'm right here!"

"Yeah and now thanks to him if we get injured they probably won't even show us in hospital. That spotlight stealing asshole!"

"Hey!"

"And they haven't even shown Rukia yet! I swear if they skip her hospital scene I'm gonna kick that berry-head square in the nuts!" Renji's eyes burned with sudden anger and a thin flaming aura enveloped him.

"Stop pretending I'm not here!" Ichigo whined, "I'm standing between you for fucks sake! How can you not see me?!"

"By the way," Grimmjow mused, "What do you mean by hospital scenes?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know, you brought it up I was just going with the flow."

"Oh..."

There was an awkward silence as the perplexed guitarists considered their previous conversation. After what was close to a minute Renji looked up and almost as an afterthought smiled at his former band mate.

"Hey, Ichigo, when did you get here?"

"I was here before you even showed up! Besides, what are you two doing here?"

Renji rolled his eyes, "Isn't it obvious? We're here to visit Rukia. We just came from her idol concert."

Ichigo grasped his chin and nodded, "Hmm, I thought I saw you there."

"Yeah thanks for shouting my drink you cheapskate!"

"Grimmjow, please, for the sake of progress shut the hell up!" Renji turned back to Ichigo and together they studied the hospital before them. "I heard you were the one who saved her...As usual..."

"Yeah, but if it wasn't for Tatsuki then I never would have saved her in time."

"For what it's worth me and Grimmjow managed to evacuate most of the crowd. Those guys ended up falling back when you saved Rukia. You know what that means right?"

"We haven't seen the last of them just yet. They want Rukia and they'll stop at nothing to do it."

Renji nodded and sighed, "I never realised our fans were so fucking dangerous! What have we done to create such monsters?!"

Ichigo shook his head. "They weren't our fans. There was something different about them..."

"Could they be part of Nnoitra's lot then? He was super pissed off when we broke up, I haven't heard from him since he left to go back to his old band."

"No...Nnoitra's fans are crazy, but not this crazy. This is something entirely different. I mean none of them recognised us at all, save for Rukia, but who hasn't seen her lately? Her face is plastered all over the city."

"Then are they even really metalheads?"

"Well they sure looked like it but...I don't know. I don't like this one bit. I'm sure the next time we meet it's going to be far worse than what happened back at the arena." Ichigo's expression turned grave.

* * *

In the heart of Germany in the uppermost floors of the Nuclear Blast headquarters, the label heads conducted a meeting regarding the dwindling sales and struggling metal scene after Soul Reaper's disbandment.

"It seems the spirit of the fans subsided with their departure. Not only has it affected sales of their records but every other band under our name have suddenly fallen well beneath our profit threshold. Something must be done about this!"

"Yes, indeed. The honeymoon period is over. We can't just keep flogging off memorial merchandise. That train has already left the station."

"And with Rukia now in the idol business and Nnoitra touring with another band it would be too difficult to re-sign them and force another album out. The only way to bring Soul Reaper back would be a line-up change but that would certainly not go down well with the band itself or the fans for that matter."

"Then what should we do?"

The door to the conference room burst inwards, hinges torn free from the wall. In its wake stood Stan, a devilish grin on his face.

"Excuse me gentlemen, I believe you were looking for a profitable way to revitalise the metal scene? If that is the case, then perhaps you might like to hear my proposal?"

One of the board members rose from his chair and stabbed an accusing finger at the intruder, "This room is for board personnel only! Get out of here!"

There was a resounding 'bang' and in the blink of an eye the defiant board member dropped dead upon the table, blood pooling from the gaping hole in his forehead. Amidst the mortified screams of the board the sound of rushing footsteps emerged from outside. A line of armed troops, all in metal attire stormed the room and set up positions on either side of Stan.

Stan smirked and clasped his hands together, "Gentlemen...It would be in your best interests to hear me out. Disagreements can get pretty ugly now can't they?"

Hanging their heads in defeat, the board members submitted.

Stan's laughter echoed throughout the entire building.

* * *

Rukia awoke in an unfamiliar white room. She had no idea where she was or why, her last memory being that of her disastrous homecoming concert at the Karakura arena. With a heavy groan she propped herself up against the backrest and studied her surroundings. The array of medical equipment suggested a hospital, but last she knew, she had been attacked and taken away by the creeps who had invaded her concert.

A soft knock from the door startled her and with a hesitant frown, she bid the visitor entry.

The door opened slowly as three men strolled in, all bearing warm smiles. They looked like a bunch of dangerous misfits, but Rukia knew from experience just how wrong that notion was. Even with their scary faces and ridiculously coloured hair, none of them posed any danger. In fact they had been the ones who protected her throughout her time on the road with Soul Reaper.

"Hey guys...It's been a while, hasn't it?" she muttered, her voice weak.

"Hey Rukia...I hope you're feeling better." Ichigo smiled awkwardly and let out a nervous little chuckle.

Renji waved and then quickly turned to Grimmjow with an unusually triumphant look on his face. "I told you we'd have a hospital scene!"

"You don't have to kick Ichigo in the nuts now!" Grimmjow beamed, seeming to have forgotten Rukia's presence or the very reason they had come to the hospital in the first place.

Ichigo gave Renji a dead arm and kicked Grimmjow's shin, all the while maintaining an unstable smile to keep up appearances with his hospitalised wife.

"Ow! I said I _wouldn't _kick you in the nuts!"

"Yeah!" Grimmjow snapped.

Ichigo ignored them and approached the wounded idol. "How you feeling?"

"Weird..." Rukia stated blankly, "I'm used to visiting you in the hospital all the time. It's weird being the other way around..."

"Yeah, well they already released me. I was banged up pretty bad, but it wasn't anything serious. They said you can leave today as well!"

"Hooray!" Grimmjow leapt up from his chair despite no-one noticing him sitting down. Nobody paid him any heed.

"Who were those guys?" Renji asked, suddenly taking on a serious tone.

Rukia averted her gaze and frowned, "I don't really know, but this isn't the first time they've attacked my shows..."

"So this is what Byakuya was talking about? Why didn't he tell me sooner?!"

"Nii-san?"

"Huh? Oh right! Your brother is actually kind of worried about you. He ordered me to attend your show and protect you." Renji hung his head in shame as he muttered, "Sorry for doing such a crappy job..."

Rukia laughed weakly. "Don't worry about it! All that matters is that my friends are safe!"

"For now." Ichigo interjected. "Those guys won't rest until they have you."

The mood dropped instantly at the mention of the tragedy but Ichigo had to get something off his chest. He struggled to meet her gaze as he spoke at long last, having considered his choice of words.

"I think it's safe to say that you're not safe on that stage."

"I don't get it..." Grimmjow mumbled.

"Well whoever those guys are, their target is Rukia. If they've been attacking her live shows for a while now then it's safe to say these attacks won't stop until we either find the guys responsible or...Worst case scenario, they get their hands on her..."

Grimmjow made a strange face and tilted his head to one side. "No, seriously, I mean you said 'it's safe to say you're not safe.' Isn't that just a strange way of putting it? It's confusing you know? And-"

"For fuck's sake can you at least try and be serious for once?!" Ichigo roared, moving with immeasurable speed to come within a hairs breadth of striking the dumbstruck bassist. Ichigo's fist stopped barely a centimetre from his face, leaving Grimmjow to slowly back up against the wall, hands out in peace.

"S-Sorry...I was just...Trying to lighten the mood..."

Ichigo rolled his eyes and uttered a curse under his breath. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry. All this crazy shit is just getting to me all of a sudden..."

Once again silence descended upon the room and this time Renji decided to break the ice, clapping his hands to get everyone's scattered attention.

"Come on guys! It's been years since we last saw each other! We haven't even said 'Hi' yet! We should be happy that we've all found each other again, right? Sure some bad stuff may have happened, but we've never let this sort of thing get us down in the past! Soul Reaper is stronger than that!"

"Soul Reaper is also dead in the water Renji. We burned that bridge a while ago, don't you remember?" said Ichigo with eyes alight with fury.

"I-I know that!" Renji snapped back, "But there's nothing stopping us from swimming back across! We might have to fight the current but there is no stopping us getting back to the other side!"

"We can't! We swore never to return unless all of us we on board. We've moved on from that."

"Moved on huh? What exciting career prospects have you got going for you now, eh Kurosaki?" Renji smirked arrogantly at his own taunt but the fact remained that he was no better, working a pain-staking desk job day in and day out.

"I had to repeat a year for all the school I missed."

"Wonderful!" Renji howled, "And Grimmjow, how has the hedonistic lifestyle been treating you?"

"Sex, drugs and no rock and roll is kind of lame..." he bowed his head in shame.

"And I fucking hate my job! None of us are going anywhere!"

"What about Rukia? She has a career now! I won't interfere with her dream, that's just not right!"

"But don't you see? We need _something_ to give us meaning to our lives. Otherwise we're just gonna wind up in a rut and hate our lives, spending every waking moment in regret. I can see it in your eyes, Ichigo! You want to be back on the stage as much as I do! You're lying to yourself to think anything otherwise!"

Ichigo grit his teeth and scowled, "Of course I want to go back there! But I can't!"

"What's stopping you?" Renji persisted, digging under the former front-man's skin.

Ichigo opened his mouth to speak but quickly held back at the last second, glancing over at Rukia with a forlorn look. His answer was obvious to all present in the room and all eyes fell on the bed-ridden idol, the catalyst of Soul Reaper's disbanding, Rukia Kuchiki.

She closed her eyes and bowed her head, feeling the burden pressing down upon her as if it were the weight of the world.

"Look guys, I'm sorry. I can't go back to Soul Reaper...At least not for now. There are certain parts of my past I want to remain buried and until I'm ready I don't want to go back there."

Her crest-fallen friends all wore pained expressions.

Rukia forced a smile, though it was paper thin, "But...I could do with some live musicians...If you're interested?"


	6. The Path to Oblivion

**Track 6: Path to Oblivion**

A low metallic hum reverberated across the barren corpse of the arena. Still under reconstruction after the devastating attack two weeks prior, the Karakura arena had certainly seen better days. The roof was hastily patched back together, enough to withstand some bad weather, but definitely not enough to withstand another attack. The stage had to be rebuilt from scratch, the old timber boards charred and warped from the heat of battle. Much of the equipment had been replaced as well as the seats.

It wasn't as good as new, but it was standing strong nonetheless. Well, standing at least...

Rukia cast her gaze upon the scars of the last attack and winced. Her memories were still fresh in her mind. How could they not? The black clad army had sworn to destroy her. Her next show would be their next target.

The only consolation came in the form of a backing band she had recently hired (At minimum wage of course.) That day they were rehearsing for the upcoming aid relief show, ironically intended for the victims of Rukia-Chan's previous gig in Karakura.

"Alright let's take it from the top!"

A slow drum beat kicked in, gradually speeding up. After a wild fill light suddenly exploded on-stage and Rukia leapt high into the air with a delighted squeal. Her two newly hired guitarists played with vibrant energy despite their somewhat subdued riffs. The wild-looking bass player remained tucked away in the back turned down low enough that not even the insects could hear him.

Rukia skipped up to the front of the stage and started singing a bright melody, only to be drowned out by the wailing of a guitar.

"Wait! Stop!"

The lights blacked out.

"Renji what are you doing?"

The red-haired guitarist held up his weapon proudly, "I chucked in a little solo there so-"

"There is no solo there." Rukia dead-panned.

"I know. I was making things a little more exciting!"

"Well don't! A backing band is supposed to back up the singer, not compete with them!" so snapped the miniature songstress. "I taught you the song so play it right!"

With a sulk Renji turned away and grumbled, "Fine!"

They started once again from the top. At the exact same point as before Renji resigned himself to playing the patterns as instructed, however a deep rumbling beneath the guitars caught his attention. Renji stopped immediately and crossed his arms.

"Hey! Grimmjow just tried to do a solo too!"

Rukia glanced back at them and smiled, "I know, but it was working well so I thought I'd leave it."

"What?! How come he gets a solo and I don't?!" Renji huffed.

"Well he was doing his thing without being overpowering." the shinigami idol explained.

Renji's cheeks flared red. "Overpowering?! You're talking about Grimmjow! He couldn't overpower a fucking kitten!"

"Hey!" the weakling in question whined.

"I know." said Rukia.

"HEY!"

"Um...When do I growl?" Ichigo added, raising his hand like a student.

"Argh! I can't take this anymore! I'm taking a break!"

Rukia stormed off backstage.

All eyes fell on Renji.

"What?"

* * *

'knock, knock'

"Come in." Rukia called from her dressing room.

Renji stumbled in, both eyes ringed in black and blue bruises. "Rukia...After some _careful consideration, _I came to the conclusion that I was being a bit of a dick back there. I'm sorry."

With a sigh the idol rose from her seat and patted his shoulder, "It's alright. It's not your fault. I know this isn't what you're used to." She paced the room and leaned against the desk, studying her haggard expression in the mirror. "Nice solo..." she mumbled under her breath.

"Huh?"

"Your solo..." she turned to him with a thin smile, "It was good. You've been practising a lot, I can tell."

Like a schoolboy being greeted for the first time by his long-time crush, Renji's cheeks turned as red as...His hair...And he regressed into a giddy fit of excitement, desperately trying to distract attention from his painfully obvious delight.

"Ha ha! Yeah! Ever since we beat Stan I've felt incredible you know? It's kind of like, I can communicate with my guitar and it...Well I can sort of speak through it, or something." He laughed again, half out of amusement and half due to the fact that he really didn't know how to explain his new-found skills.

Despite his awkwardness Rukia beamed a warm smile and ruffled his hair.

"I know what you mean. Whenever I pick up a guitar I feel the same way." Suddenly her expression darkened, "But...I'm still afraid. Everything we went through...I was so scared. I don't want to go through anything like that ever again. I'm really sorry, but you have to understand that."

"O-Of course! But what about all these attacks huh? If you ask me it doesn't matter whether you play metal or...Whatever you call this stuff. Either way people are after you. Bad things will happen to us. We've come too far to turn back. We've made many allies and many enemies along the way. I know you're scared, but so am I. So is everyone else! But I know this; metal gives us _power_! Metal is our weapon against any who dare to challenge us and it's the only way to save ourselves and all those people who follow us and cheer us on!"

Rukia averted her gaze and frowned. Renji continued on, pressing in closer.

"I know it's not my decision to make and I certainly can't change your mind. But it's not your choice either. It's Soul Reaper's choice!"

Renji walked out and Rukia collapsed in her seat.

The rest of the rehearsals were called off.

* * *

High up in the uppermost floors of the tallest skyscraper, Stan sat at the head of a large round table. Representatives and executives from Nuclear Blast, Victory Records, Century Media and Roadrunner all shared uneasy glances amongst each other. The mysterious figure had visited each company in a storm of bullets and menacing threats and of course, none had refused under such pressure. The least they could do is hear him out if it prolongs their lives even just a little bit.

"Gentlemen," he declared with a booming roar, "welcome. I'm sure you are all thrilled to find out what my proposal is, after all every single one of you has voiced concerns of feeble profits and marketing failures. Our industry is struggling and is on the verge of ruin if we do not take action! For that reason I have called you here. Your labels consist of a sizeable portion of the metal industry and with your co-operation we can turn this business around. The others will soon follow our lead; it is simply up to you to get the ball rolling."

The board room was totally silent bar Stan. None dared to speak out of turn. They had all witnessed the consequences of such impudence in the past. Taking their fearful attention as his cue, Stan continued, rising up from his chair to pace around the table.

"We need something to revitalise the movement. We need something _big_ to compete with the other music scenes. We need to make a statement which will make the entire world tremble! I have that very something in my possession and with your support I wish to proceed with reclaiming our lost sales and conquering this damaged industry!"

Stan waved at the door and called out to whomever had been standing guard outside. A group of young men strolled in, looking completely out of place with the suit-and-tie businessmen around them. The youngsters wore jeans too tight to properly accommodate a man's 'mic and P.A system' and wore unusually bright and colourful shirts for a metal band. Their meticulously styled hairdo's glinted in the artificial light, the thick layers of hairspray creating a reflective glow. Their pale, unpainted skin stood out from the surrounding darkness.

"Who the hell are they?" An exec from Victory records snarled, glaring at them with disdain. "These worthless wimps won't sell anything! They look like a bunch of misfits from an all-ages disco, not a metal band!"

The other members of the round table all shrunk in their seat, regardless of whether they agree with him or not. They had learned not to question Stan. The stared wide-eyed between their stupendously brave comrade and their captor.

Stan merely chuckled at the accusation and clapped his hands.

"Well done! You have a good eye sir. These boys aren't quite 'metal' yet. But they don't need to be. Records aren't sold simply in the spirit of metal anymore. Humans are vain and stupid! Put a naked girl on the cover and an album sells! Have an effeminate nancy boy sing a love song and girls will throw their purses at anything with his face on it! This is marketing, gentlemen!"

The angry executive slammed his fist on the table, creating a resonating bang, "What do you think this is? A game? We don't market to kids or girls! They are just a bonus! We've always marketed towards male audiences because they're the ones filling seat at concerts every night! We don't sign the Beatles we sign Behemoth!"

Stan smiled, "Are you quite finished?"

The executive glared at him, but sat down quietly. He never made another noise again, his head rolling from his shoulders. Stan wiped blood from his hands despite never appearing to have moved from the head of the table. Screams filled the room as the others fled from the crimson fountain erupting from the jagged stump of the corpse's neck.

"Gentlemen, I am sure some of you have your doubts, but trust me. This plan shall not fail! With your support we will not only crush all competition in the metal industry, but we may very well topple the likes of Universal and Sony records! We can rule the world together...But only if you are willing?"

All heads bowed and not a single voice of protest emerged. Stan's laughter filled the room.

"Excellent! Let us use this secret weapon against the metal scene and destroy all who stand in our way! Let us see how the sheep respond to our latest creation...Metalcore! Mwahahahahaha!"


	7. Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

**Track 7: Sheep in Wolf's Clothing**

PLEASE NOTE: As you may have guessed from the last chapter there is gonna be a bit of metalcore bashing throughout this story. I'll say this in advance to avoid flamers: In case you haven't figured it out by now, this story is merely for laughs so don't take it seriously. There is a 100% chance that bands you may like will be at some point subjected to parody but don't freak out about it ok? We're all here for a laugh so take it with good humour and please don't take any of this personally or seriously. That said though, some of these bands that will be henceforth referred to really are fucking awful but you will find out about that later on in this chapter.

Now sit back, relax and enjoy! Oh and reviews are always nice too!

* * *

The boys of Soul Reaper sat together at their old booth back at the club that had given them their first ever gig. It was on that cracked wooden stage that smelled like a wet dog that Soul Reaper had shown the world exactly what they were made of. It was that stage that carved out their destiny and led them down a path of unimaginable adventure. When those nervous young rookies first stepped out on that stage they had never even thought about making it big enough to get to Deathfest. They certainly didn't predict facing off against Satan either.

There was no mistake; it was one wild and crazy ride.

But they wanted to ride that crazy train once again.

Ichigo smiled at his favourite waitress, his first ever groupie and as she passed him a drink a CD soon followed. It was one of the limited edition Japanese releases of Hollow, the one and only album they had ever made.

Ichigo tilted his head and glanced at the speakers in the corner, belting out one of their other tracks, "I See Red".

Fond memories swirled within his mind and brought a thin smile.

"I miss the good old days..."

"Same here!" Renji yelled, already drunk. "We need to get back together and soon! Who knows how long it will be before they replace us with some new crap!"

As if on cue the recording stopped and several roadies began mic checking and setting up instruments.

"Ooh, a live show eh? I hope they don't make Ichigo's mistake and jump into the barrier fence!" Grimmjow howled with laughter, once again proving that he would never-ever, ever, never forget the hilarious blunder from their first ever performance.

Ichigo scowled and rubbed his cheeks which weren't just burning from shame and embarrassment, but also the memory of the intense pain he had suffered that night. That barrier, still there with the unrepaired dent, was a well-known master of fencing.

"It's mocking me..." he snarled under his breath. Thankfully his friends were drunk enough to overlook it entirely.

After several minutes of quietly fuming and making death threats to a barrier fence and its family, Ichigo sank into the booth and took a hearty swig of ale as he studied the silhouettes taking the stage. They were so thin, like stalks of wheat swaying in the breeze. Still, Ichigo shrugged it off and waited for the band to make their entrance.

"Alright guys, we've got a special guest tonight!" an unseen announcer declared. "These guys are straight from the underground scene and they have caused a splash in the metal scene lately ever since being signed by Victory Records! Raise your fucking hands for the one, the only... Design the Skyline!"

The bottle of whiskey stopped just short of Grimmjow's lips as he frowned, "That's a weird name...The fuck does it even mean?"

Renji scrunched up his face and growled, "I swear if it's another jazz fusion band I'm gonna shove a corkscrew so far up their-"

"Renji for Christ's sake there are children here!" Ichigo hissed.

"No there aren't! This is a bar!"

Ichigo blinked and as if to make sure, he glanced around the darkened room. "Oh...Right...Well. Shut up!"

The crowd fell silent as the lights went down and all waited on bated breath for the performance to begin.

Then it began. Nobody was really sure whether it was the performance or simultaneous epileptic fits, but something was definitely going on up there. The guitars wailed in agony as notes that didn't sound like notes squealed out from the amps with a shrill whine. A keyboard seemed to be malfunctioning beneath the guitar lines. Either that or it was trying to kill itself. Then the drums kicked in.

And out.

And in again.

The drumming was out of time while the other instruments were thrashed around like toys in the hand of kids who had forgotten the amps were still turned on. Nothing connected for the first few minutes; all the while a sappy skater boy in purple skinny jeans did...vocals of some description. Not well of course but he was certainly making noises with his mouth...

Then the other vocalist, whom had been standing at the foot of the stage for the first half of the song doing absolutely nothing, switched on something on his fluoro plastic microphone and sang. Somehow even when dripping with auto-tune his vocals were still terribly off.

Somewhere in the back of the bar a baby started crying and the neighbourhood dogs were howling.

"Argh! What the fuck is that?!" Grimmjow cried, covering his bleeding ears.

Renji hid under the table in the foetal position while Ichigo glared at the punk ass fools desecrating the stage that had brought Soul Reaper to life. Slowly he rose to his feet and let loose an almighty roar which cut the power to the entire building.

The generously entitled band stared at the flame-haired demon with indifferent expressions, half due to the fact that their stage make-up was so thick it prevented them from fully opening or closing their eyes.

"Who are you?" Ichigo grunted.

"Uh..."

"Who are you?"

The frontman turned to his bandmates as if to confer and then faced Ichigo again. "We're uh...Like...Design the Skyline."

Ichigo's eyes were blazing. "I asked you already...Who are you?"

They stare at him with cocked heads. "We're uh...Musicians...Or something..."

The other vocalist nodded and jumped up in front, "Yeah! We're metalheads!"

"_**LIES!**_"

The earth shook beneath them as Ichigo strode forwards, hand clenched into such tight fists they had drawn blood.

"Musicians you say? Metalheads you say? All I hear is lies! Who are you and what do you want?!"

There was another silence as the band members appeared to confer once again.

"We're Design the Skyline, dude. Who the fuck are you?"

Glass smashed from behind as Renji lunged forward with the jagged shard of whiskey bottle clenched in one hand. He howled for bloodshed but was caught by security before he could make the stage.

"Lemme at 'em! Lemme at 'em dammit! I'll kill 'em!"

"You're drunk."

"I'll fuck their skulls!" he roared, voice trailing as he was dragged outside.

Ichigo watched on in shock and once again addressed the band (if it could be so called). "You guys are the single worst piece of shit I've ever had the misfortune of hearing. I would rather listen to Grimmjow pass a kidney stone than listen to this crap! Hang your heads in shame and get off the stage!"

The fierce former frontman turned back to the crowd in search of their unanimous approval, but received nothing more than hisses and boos.

"Go home you ignorant son of a bitch!"

"Fuck off loser!"

"Shut up and let them play!"

More irate roars filled the room. The guards left behind circled around the two remaining members of Soul Reaper and blocked their movements in all directions. Cornered in the booth, Ichigo jumped up on the table and stared down the crowd that had betrayed them.

"Don't tell me you actually like these trashy little runts?!"

One of the waitresses spat at him and scowled, "Humph. You're just jealous because they're so young and pretty."

Ichigo blinked. "What does that have to do with anything? I couldn't give a flying fuck if it was prince charming on guitar and Mr Darcy was singing with a wet t-shirt on! These guys are shit!"

"Just cause they make more money than you! What an insecure little bitch!" another patron shouted.

"We don't care about money!" Grimmjow snapped, finally having stopped the bleeding of his ears enough to pay attention to the situation. "If I cared about money I wouldn't be paying the tab for my friends here!"

"Grimmjow, just let me handle this..." Ichigo groaned. "Look guys, we're talking about music here. Money and image don't even fit into the equation here. Surely you can tell the sound of such sloppy, rash-inducing shit like that when you hear it?!"

There was a short silence before one of the girl near the back squealed, "I think the singer is hot! Great band!" She was accompanied by a chorus of cheers that drowned out Ichigo's furious curses.

"Shut up!" he cried, but the crowd ignored him, lost in meaninglessly shallow appraisals of the soppy twig-thin waifs on-stage. "Shut up!" Ichigo repeated, but the cheers only grew louder, making his cries impossible to hear.

"I said shut up dammit! Shut up!"

Ichigo was getting red in the face. Rage and something else coursed through his bulging veins as he struggled to maintain his composure. Not exactly sure what was going on, but certain that it wouldn't be good, Grimmjow slid to the far side of the booth and shrank in his seat.

Ichigo hunched forward and clenched his fists, looking as if a demon were about ready to burst out at any moment now. He cursed and grunted and snarled in an attempt to suppress it, but the crowd was getting louder and the ridiculously bad band had started up playing again. The lights were irritating his eyes and the sounds were assaulting his hearing. He could taste hair-spray and moisturiser in the air, not sweat and iron. Everything in the room was harming his senses.

"Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up! Grrrrrr..."

He took a deep breath.

"I MAKE SEX TAPES WITH A LOVE PILLOW OF MY LITTLE SISTER!"

…

The music stopped.

Feedback hissed through the amps as slowly, the entire crowd turned to glare at him, all in perfect sync. That baby started crying again and the dogs howled.

The sheer fact that it worked made Ichigo smile with smug satisfaction, but that was clearly the worst possible place at the worst possible time.

"Y-y-you...You...With Yuzu...I..." Grimmjow was speechless. He just shook his head like a disappointed father.

The crowd wasn't.

A bottle was flung from somewhere and Ichigo was struck on the temple, falling from the table and crashing to the floor. He blacked out before long, but that may have been a good thing.

He was about to be lynched...

* * *

Somewhere in Europe Stan was counting a stack of money, smoking a bloated cigar and laughing like a fat cat. That of course is ironic because he was tall and thin and according to his medical records he wasn't a cat either.

"Ha ha ha! Perfect! Those fools are falling hook, line and sinker! They'll buy anything, even compilations and best ofs from bands that only have one album! The posters are simply printed on normal printer paper but they pay the premium price for it! The shirts with completely unrelated designs are selling out worldwide! Already the pieces are falling into place!"

The phone rang.

"Hello, this is Stan."

"Hey bro!"

Stan grinned. He recognised that voice. "Hello brother, how nice of you to call. How were the 'negotiations' with Activision?"

"Ha ha ha! I got to crush a few skulls while I was there. Next time I might wear gloves!"

Stan sighed and took drag on his cigar while his brother kept on rambling.

"There were a couple of those hot nerdy chicks there too! I got to do some warm up drills with my fingers if you know what I mean!"

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose quite hard and groaned. "Ugh, yes I know what you mean brother, but what of the plan?"

"Well when they finished shitting their pants they were pretty impressed! It's all green lit now bro!"

"Excellent. Well done. I shall reward you when you return."

The cheer on the other end of the line caused the speakers to crackle like flames. "All right! This time I want a French chick! And make her wear a maid costume!"

Stan rolled his eyes. "You won't stop until you've desecrated every single stereotype on earth will you?"

"Only the chicks bro! Only the chicks!"

Stan chuckled, "Of course my dear brother. You are desperately lonely after all."

"I'm not lonely!" the brother barked back.

Stan chuckled once again. "Of course you're lonely." he exclaimed with patronising cheer. Then the facade dropped and the venom seeped into his tone as he added, "You're a gamer."

He hung up before his brother could shout his angry reply.

The beast massaged his temples and reclined in his chair, the only one in the room not splattered with blood.

"Well, well, well. Even that basement-dwelling troglodyte can be useful from time to time...Maybe I'll let him rent out a granny flat when I rule the world? Ah ha ha ha ha!"


	8. Dark Signs

**Track 8: Dark Signs**

Surprise, surprise. Ichigo awoke in a hospital room. Renji and Grimmjow were both in beds on either side of him. Several nurses and doctors of whom he was on first name terms with due to his frequent visits were standing against the wall. Rukia was with them, speaking softly. Upon noticing the berry-head had awakened they all turned to him and offered their obligatory smiles (Well Rukia's was more genuine at least...)

"Good morning Mr Kurosaki. How are you feeling?"

He shook his head and groaned, "Ugh, my head! My whole body hurts. Hell it feels like I was violated with a wine bottle..." Ichigo laughed weakly at his own joke but the doctors all paled.

He stopped.

"What? Why are you all making that creepy face? I didn't..."

They all stared back at him, stone-faced.

A little bit of vomit swam up Ichigo's oesophagus. "Oh God...You're joking! Please tell me you're joking!"

One of the doctors frowned and glanced over the sheets in his hand, "I'm afraid we doctor's don't tell jokes Mr Kurosaki. But look on the bright side, your prostate is good and healthy."

More vomit swam up into Ichigo's mouth. He swallowed it down before daring to speak again. "Wait...You're telling me those bastards knocked me unconscious...and...and..." He couldn't finish. Just thinking about it made him feel dirty.

Rukia stroked his hair and gazed at him with such purely sympathetic eyes that it brought him to tears. She held him as he sobbed.

"As for your friends," the doctor continued, "Renji Abarai suffered damage to his liver, stomach and kidneys. We've done all we can and now he simply needs to rest."

"Jesus...They beat him up that bad?"

The doctor's expression didn't change. "Er, no. He just drank way too much and blacked out in the street shortly after being kicked out by security."

"Oh..."

"As for your friend Grimmjow, he suffered some kind of mental trauma. We're not exactly sure what happened, but he's been emotionally disturbed since we found him last night."

"No...How could they do something so awful?"

"Well, actually..." One of the nurses began, "From what little information we could get out of him, it was something _you_ did."

"Don't tell me they made him watch?!"

"No...We aren't exactly sure, but apparently it has something to do with you and..." the nurse squinted at her notes, "...a pillow?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

* * *

"Um...Stan, sir? We have a problem with one of your new recruits." said a timid little creature with dyed black hair and pale painted skin. It clutched its hands nervously as it hobbled about in skate shoes. Stan hated the little twit, but by God he was cheap.

"What is it now?" Stan grumbled, reluctantly following behind the little awkward thing that was stumbling through the hall to the rehearsal space. A group of heavily tattooed youths turned to greet their employer as he strode on in with an air of supreme authority.

"They're the ones my Lord!" the impish slave squeaked.

"Very well. What do we call this lot then?"

The small conglomeration of black and white checked its notes. "Ch-Chelsea Grin my lord."

"And? What is the problem?" Stan asked with a total lack of enthusiasm.

"Well...Um...N-n-n-none of them want to play bass sir."

"What?"

"They don't want to play bass!"

"What about the bass player?"

"He has a guitar now as well..."

Stan frowned and approached them. "Excuse me lads, I just overheard that you are having some line-up issues."

"Yeah!" one the three men with guitars snarled. "We all want to play guitar!"

"Well you can't. You need a bass player!"

"Well I'm not doing it! I wanna be a guitarist too!"

"It's called a bass _guitar_! Play the damn thing!" Stan roared.

"No!" The man folded his arms as if that settled the argument.

Stan snapped, grabbing the irritating man by the collar and lifting him off the ground. "Look, I paid you to play bass so you had better bloody do it! Understood?" he dropped the fool and walked away in a worse mood than ever. He needed a cigar to calm himself down, but apparently some of his recruits had been complaining to their union about his smoking habits.

It was times like these when Stan wondered why he ever allowed them to form a union in the first place.

In the elevator, Stan finally lit up his cigar and sighed. He could distinctly hear three electric guitars churning down below without the rumble of bass to hold it together. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"World domination is hard work..."

* * *

After being given enough time recover to the point of sitting up comfortably, Ichigo explained the incident at the bar. He recalled the audible travesty that was Design the Skyline and its strange effect on the audience. Rukia listened intently, her expression growing graver as the story progressed.

"They sound like the guys who attacked my concerts!" she cried. "These strange new metalheads are causing trouble all over the place. Look!" Rukia turned on the television and switched to what was supposed to be the MTV of heavy metal. Their eyes were assaulted by young teens in patterned shirts and colourful tees with meticulously styled hair. They sounded like a metal band and yet at the same time they did not. The end result sounded terrible.

"Turn it off! Turn it off!" Ichigo screamed.

"Ichigo...What's happening?" Rukia asked, a tremble in her voice. "Ever since we split up the metal scene has been falling apart and going insane! Is this all our fault?!"

The former frontman frowned. "I don't know for sure...But it certainly seems that way. Remember, after beating Stan he gave us some kind of power...Perhaps it's the one thing that can keep everyone together and in control. We've been gone from the stage for quite a while now. It could be that without their God, the glue to hold it all together..." he trailed off.

"Without someone to lead them, everyone is going crazy." Rukia finished the thought. She bowed her head and clasped her hands to stop them shaking. "What should we do?"

Ichigo's expression then was difficult to read. He took a deep breath and glanced over at their resting brothers in arms. "Rukia, you know I can't force you to do anything you don't want to. But, I think it'd be best if you stopped this idol thing for now. If the metal world needs a God to lead them then I will gladly do so. I'm sure Renji and Grimmjow feel the same way."

"You...You're thinking of bringing Soul Reaper back?" she asked incredulously, "You could all get terribly hurt!"

Ichigo rubbed his bandaged output jack and forced a bitter laugh. "Whether we do this or not, we're going to get hurt. At least when we were in Soul Reaper we had the power to fight off our foes. As we are, scattered like dust we aren't strong enough to fight something this big."

Rukia looked down at her feet, unable to meet his gaze.

"I guess you're right...It's for the best." Slowly, she glanced up, a warm little smile lighting up the gloom around her, "Besides, it was pretty fuckin' cool!"

They shared a laugh, the first in a long while.

"Well I guess it's decided then. Soul Reaper is back! All we need to do is find Nnoitra and we're set! I wonder where he went?"

* * *

In a darkened room he finally opened his eyes and came to. He wanted to rub the crusted flakes from the corners of his eyes (Well...Eye...) but both hands were tied behind his back, leather straps and steel chains binding him to the chair in the centre of the room.

"Ugh, where the hell am I?"

His head hurt quite a lot. He wanted to hunch over and throw up but he was forced to keep his back straight. The belts around his stomach pressed tight against his rumbling guts. He never wanted to puke so bad, but he was wearing his good jeans and didn't want to ruin them. Blood was ok but vomit was a bitch to clean out. Bloody vomit on the other hand...Well usually the doctors clean that mess up before he ever got the chance to do it himself.

He glanced around the room and groaned, "Did I go home with one of those psycho groupies again? Fuck! Why do all the psycho's come onto me?! I mean sure it's fucking crazy and fun but the morning after sucks! I mean what the fuck is this?! The bitch better not try and pull a Hostel on me!"

A door grated open ahead of him. The light that shone through was blinding and he wished to bring his hands up to shield his eye but was once again reminded that he was bound to the chair. He cursed and writhed about but it was all useless. The chair was either bolted to the floor or cemented down.

The silhouette in the doorway was tall and thin. It walked slowly towards him and extended a hand to the wall. In the blink of an eye a series of hanging bulbs lit up with fading light. Nonetheless it was enough to see by and what he saw was a terrible sight.

"You!" he snarled. "What are you doing back here?! Bastard! This is your doing isn't it?!"

The visitor chuckled and gave a brief round of applause. "And hello to you too, Nnoitra Jiruga. How have you been enjoying those powers I gave you? I bet your fans are going crazy!"

"Fuck you! What do you want from me?!"

"What a mouth you have. We'll have to do something about that. Now, I'm quite sure that I just asked you a question. You would do well to answer."

Nnoitra laughed and spat on the floor, "HA! I don't answer to scum like you! If you've got to tie me up like your little bitch to make me squeal then you must not have regained your powers! I reckon I could take you on! And this time I'll be sure to kill you!"

Stan grinned, "Now, now. Nnoitra my dear friend, you should know better than anyone by now..." He leaned in so close their foreheads were almost touching, "You can never truly conquer your demons!"

In an instant all of Nnoitra's bravado vanished.

"Just as I thought. You remember it don't you? Oh how you long for it, the solution to everything... Why I guess you could call it...The Cure!"

Stan laughed venomously as he procured a small bag of powder from his coat pocket. Nnoitra's eyes narrowed as he recognised the familiar substance. He could smell it; he could taste it just on the tip of his tongue. His mouth suddenly felt dry so he licked his lips.

"Oh Nnoitra, how naive of you. If you can't even slay a measly little demon like this how could you have possibly thought you could defeat the greatest demon of them all?"

Nnoitra tried his best to look away, "W-what d-do you w-want?"

Stan grinned. "I desire nothing special. I just want you and the gang to get back together again."

"You mean Soul Reaper?"

The devil nodded, "Yes, exactly. I want you to return to your friends in Soul Reaper. I want you all to have a splendid reunion and then...I want you to _kill them all_!"

"No!" Nnoitra cried, "That's fucked up! I can't kill them! What makes you think-"

Stan waved the bag to the left and Nnoitra's entire head followed it. He swung it listlessly to the right and sure enough his head came swinging along with it. The beast laughed maniacally and pressed the bag forward, right in front of the drummer's nose. Without even realising it he was trying to bite it.

"Look at yourself. You're a slave to the Cure. All those wasted hours in rehab and several seconds have brought you crawling back on your hands and knees! We both know that you will do anything for a fix and I happen to know your price doesn't exclude cold-blooded murder. Now do we have a deal?"

Stan's grin only grew wider as Nnoitra hung his head low and his shoulders slumped.

"Deal..."


End file.
